


Meet Me At the Hotel Room

by Anonymous



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Comeplay, Finger Sucking, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, One Night Stands, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He remembers making eye contact with the half-orc who’d run his calloused fingers along his skin, but everything after that is a blur until he finds himself braced against a desk in a room that isn’t his, breathing heavy through his nose as the stranger grinds up against him.Written for the Critical Role Kink Meme.





	Meet Me At the Hotel Room

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as a fill for the CR Kink Meme prompt ["Molly/Anyone Thigh Fucking"](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/3194.html?thread=571002#cmt571002) and updated a bit to be posted here.

It had started with a brush of fingers against his tail as Molly was drinking at the bar.

He had snuck away from everyone after the night’s performance- it was a great show; the crowd’s energy was fantastic and even Yasha was smiling by the time the last patron had left the main tent. But he was restless from the adrenaline rush of a show well done and wanting to do something a bit more physical, a bit more intimate than sitting with the performers and drinking himself to sleep.

And so Mollymauk found himself in some shitty dive bar, sitting alone at the counter, sipping some mediocre ale and eyeing the other patrons. He’d been making prolonged eye contact with a tall, broad-shouldered human man and just starting to consider buying the fellow a drink when something warm and rough grazed his tail. 

He remembers making eye contact with the half-orc who’d run his calloused fingers along his skin, but everything after that is a blur until he finds himself braced against a desk in a room that isn’t his, breathing heavy through his nose as the stranger grinds up against him. Thick fingers trace where his thigh-high boots stop, calloused enough to catch slightly on the fabric of his pants, the touch light enough to tease and tickle. Then those fingers slide up his thighs and onto his hips and they dig in hard enough to bruise. It’s fucking delightful.

The stranger- Donovan, he thinks his name was, so hard to remember names when his one-night stand has such a pretty face and an even prettier cock- has sharp nails that leave angry red marks down his back. Molly is still fully dressed, though he's not sure whether it counts as _fully_ dressed when his shirt is in tatters and hanging off of him in ribbons. He's probably bleeding from the scratches on his back- he can smell blood in the air and it's almost certainly his own- but that hot pain is soothed every time he feels maybe-Donovan grind up against his ass. He's still clothed too, but Molly doesn't have to see his cock to know that it's a fucking work of art. Thick and hard and hot, even through the fabric of both of their pants, and Molly wishes he was better prepared for this. It's been a while, with the circus being unusually busy as well as their having to move around more frequently- which is all to say that he hasn't been fucked good and proper for several months. He's barely had time to jerk off, and even that has been quiet and rushed in the dead of night, whenever he's sure everyone else is asleep enough to count as having privacy. So he can pretend that _that's_ why he's so achingly hard after just a few minutes of kissing and rutting. 

The half-orc is gripping his hip hard enough to bruise, then sliding his hand to the front of Molly’s trousers and fumbling for a button. The warmth of his skin so close to where Molly wants him is agony, and when those fingers finally undo the button that frees his cock and the cool airs hits him, he makes a noise that he should probably be way more embarrassed about.

But before he can get too far, Molly gasps out, “Darling, much as it pains me to say it, I don't think that lovely cock is gonna fit in me tonight.”

The half-orc grunts in acknowledgement, and pulls his hand and his hips away. Molly has to bite his tongue to keep a disappointed whine from slipping out. He's about to turn around and offer to suck maybe-Donovan off, _gods he needs something better to call this man_ , when he feels a large hand press between his shoulder blades and shove him forward hard enough that he has to brace himself on the desk he's been leaning against. The impact is jarring, and he can feel that his elbows are going to be sore, but before he can say anything, there's a thick crack and a jolt of pain as the stranger slaps his ass. Then there’s the press of a point just below his tail and the sound of tearing fabric as the half-orc rips the seat of his trousers straight down the center and pulls them until they're barely hanging off his hips. 

Molly skipped his underclothes in the hopes of having this kind of encounter, and the sudden cool air on his thighs and ass raises goosebumps along his arms.

“Gonna fuck your thighs,” the half-orc rumbles, and there's a rustle as he undoes the laces of his breeches and pulls his cock out. It's hot and heavy as it rests against the curve of Molly's ass, and he can feel precum leaking onto his skin. There's a wet noise as the stranger, _fuck it, he's just going to call him Donovan_ , spits into his hand, strokes his cock, and presses it between Molly's thighs. He squeezes them together as tight as he can, and the pressure has the leather of his thigh-high boots digging into his skin. Donovan takes the first few thrusts slow, almost teasing as his thick cock slides against the underside of Molly’s cock and balls. The spit is already starting to get tacky, but the precum leaking from Donovan’s cock helps to slick Molly's skin. He says a quick _thank you_ to whatever deity decided to bestow orcs with so much lovely, wonderful precum, and groans as the hand that was between his shoulders slides up his back to grip his hair.

Donovan’s fingers curl against the back of his skull, and as he pulls Molly’s head back more gently than expected, he uses the other hand on Molly’s hip to thrust between his thighs hard. Then all pretenses of _teasing_ or _control_ are gone, and Donovan is fucking him hard and fast. Molly’s back arches as his hair is pulled and his hips are held in place. Wetness is dripping down his thighs and Donovan is angling his thrusts so that each movement has him brushing against Molly's balls and cock. It's nowhere near enough simulation and as Donovan’s thrusts get more erratic, Molly is getting less and less contact. He doesn't realize he's whining until the fingers in his hair loosen and three thick fingers are in his mouth instead as Donovan growls, “Shut up or you'll wake the whole inn.”

Molly groans around his fingers, running his tongue over them, and hears the crack of Donovan's hand slapping his ass before he feels the sting of it. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Donovan grunts, and hits him again. “Keep ‘em together.”

Molly's muscles are starting to burn as he squeezes his thighs together, and he's starting to get rubbed raw where his boots are rubbing against his skin, no fabric to help prevent the friction. Another hard slap to his ass draws a grunt out of him that turns into a moan as Donovan gropes his ass and digs his claws in. His cock aches, untouched and surely dripping precum onto the desk. The fingers in his mouth press deeper, and Molly has to breathe through his nose and focus on not gagging. 

“You got a beautiful ass,” Donovan grunts, and then he's cumming thick and hot on Molly's thighs and ass and torn pants and, almost certainly, his boots. Molly can feel it dripping onto him from where Donovan is stroking himself through the last of his orgasm, and he wishes desperately he could see behind him, see the white orcish cum spattered on his purple skin.

“Fuck,” he gasps as soon as the fingers are out of his mouth. “Oh, _fuck._ ” Then the fingers are dragging over his thighs and pressing back in his mouth, now covered in cum. The hand that was on his ass slips around to his front to wrap around his cock, and Donovan strokes him roughly and clumsily as Molly pants. It doesn't take much to push him over the edge, with the bitter-salty taste of cum on his tongue and the way Donovan is growling in his ear- they're probably words but Molly can't decipher them over his own muffled moans and the pounding of his heart. Donovan strokes him until he's nearly crying for him to stop, sensitive to the point of pain. The fingers in his mouth twist one last time and then they're gone, as is the heat of the half-orc at his back. He stays bent over the desk, panting as cum dries on his thighs and stomach and ass and lips, until he feels like he can stand up on his own without falling down.

Donovan has already stripped down and cleaned himself off with a damp cloth he was keeping in a bowl of water by the bed. He offers it to Molly without a word, and he takes it, grateful for a chance to fix at least _some_ of the mess he's become. Once he's wiped himself as clean as he can, he grabs his cloak off the hook by the door and wraps it around himself. Most of the damage done to his clothes was on his back and he’s pretty sure if he keeps it wrapped around him closely enough, he’ll be able to make it back to his tent without his shredded pants being noticed. It's at least late enough at night that there shouldn't be too many people out and about, and he's got a sewing kit in his tent and friends who know magic. Once he's as decent as he can get, he heads for the door and waves a hand airily.

“Thanks for the fuck, love.”

Donovan grunts from where he's lying on the bed. “You know where to find me if you're still in town tomorrow night. I'd love to see you ridin’ my fingers and beggin’ for my cock.”

Molly is too spent to get hard again so soon, but the words spark something hot and needy in the pit of his stomach. “Well then. Perhaps I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night.”


End file.
